


Any Change In Time

by kitchen_sinks



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chronic Illness, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Illnesses, M/M, One Shot Collection, Pastel Dan, Pastel Dan and Punk Phil, Phan Angst, Phan Fluff, Phanfiction, Punk Phil, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 09:09:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7709230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitchen_sinks/pseuds/kitchen_sinks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan just wanted a tattoo, but somehow he ended up with a boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Any Change In Time

“Are you sure you want to do this?” asked Chris for what felt like the millionth time. “You know you can always back out if you want to.”

“I told you, I’ve made up my mind and I’m not backing out,” said Dan adamantly. He skimmed his sweaty palms over his white jeans, willing his fingers to stop their trembling. “I’m just a bit jittery.”

Chris bit his lip and shifted the car into park. “Okay,” he said tentatively. “I’ll be looking around some of the other shops, so when you’re done just give me a call and I’ll walk over.”

Dan took a quick look in the car mirror, adjusting his delicate flower crown and smoothing it over his sleek brown hair before opening the car door. “I’ll see you soon,” he grinned, leaning in the car window. Chris waved as he switched gears and peeled out to search for better parking, and Dan was left alone under the neon blue sign flashing “Touch of Ink Tattoos.” His stomach churned a bit as he pushed open the swinging door. A soft bell dinged and he was greeted by a bright eyed girl with dark lipstick and shoulder length silver hair. 

“Hi welcome to Touch of Ink!” She exclaimed, motioning him towards the desk. Dan took in the scattering of intricate tattoos across her arms and the variety of piercings decorating her nose, lips, and ears. He suddenly felt very, very naked with his simple single piercing and blank skin.

“My name’s Cat, is there something I could help you with?”

Dan tore his eyes away from a particularly colorful tattoo of a mermaid with a teal tail and dragged his eyes back to the girl. 

“Yeah um… I’m here to ah, get a tattoo.”

Cat beamed at him and enthusiastically asked, “Sure! Did you have an appointment or…?”

Shit, why didn’t he set up an actual appointment? He’d been so wrapped up in his nerves that it hadn’t really occurred to him to.

“Ah, no actually,” he cringed. “I was hoping maybe you had a spot available? Sorry I didn’t call ahead.”

She rooted around in her desk before emerging with a crumpled schedule. Bright red nails skimmed across the paper, until she looked up at him and piped, “Actually, it looks like Phil’s free right now! If you’re ready he can do your tattoo for you.”

Dan’s throat constricted before he took a deep breath through his nose and out through his mouth. He could do this. He was determined. 

“Alright.” He tried to sound calm and collected but the nervous sweat that was beginning to pool probably suggested otherwise. 

She directed him into the back and he made his way over to Phil’s workspace. It was small but comfortable, and in the corner a man with dark blue fringe was sketching with a pen and paper. 

The man looked a little bit older than him, and he had deep blue eyes that immediately made Dan’s already-nervous heart pump even faster. His ivory skin contrasted beautifully with the colorful assortment of tattoos coating his arms and snaking up to an incredible black-ink dragon tattoo, it’s gaping maw split into a ferocious roar across his neck. When he smiled, Dan’s eyes were drawn to the silver snakebites piercing his lip.

Phil gave Dan a once over, taking in the white jeans, lavender sweater, and the soft pink flower crown encircling his dark hair and paused a moment, clearing his throat before smiling again and asking, “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yeah um,” Dan make a vague wiggly hand gesture towards the front of the store before spewing out, “That girl, Cat, she, she sent me up here.” He stuffed his hands in his pocket, avoiding Phil’s piercing blue eyes, and paused a moment to regain his composure. “I came to get a tattoo, she said you could do it for me.” 

“Of course!” he said, standing up abruptly and ushering Dan into his area. “Take a seat, take a seat” He fumbled with his drawings for a moment before sweeping them off the table and into an open drawer. 

“So, what exactly were you looking to get done today?” he asked.

“Well, nothing, like,  _really_  big.” He searched for a way to say it without sounding like a 12 year old girl. “I just wanted like, a chain of flowers about right here,” he managed to articulate, tracing a long finger in a circle around his left wrist. “Well not quite a chain, more like a branch, a branch of cherry blossoms.”

“That sounds perfect for you,” he smiled, gesturing up to the tiny flowers decorating Dan’s hair. 

“Yeah,” said Dan, face flushed as he patted his hair down, “I’m kind of a fan.”

Phil stood up and began sorting through his materials to prep him for the tattoo. 

“Hey,” he said, circling around his workspace. “I never did catch your name. Cat probably told you but my name’s Phil.” He extended an arm to shake, and clasped Dan’s hand in his own. His fingers were surprisingly soft and warm. 

“I’m Dan.”

“Well Dan,” Phil popped open his kit with a click. “It’s nice to meet you, let’s get started.”

x

When the needle first entered his skin Dan had to resist the urge to jump. It felt like a dozen tiny bees stinging his wrist over and over again. He grimaced and clenched his jaw, determined to handle the pain like any of Phil’s normal clientele. 

“Doing alright?” Phil asked after a few minutes, flicking his eyes up to Dan’s before resuming his work.

“Yeah,” Dan winced, sucking in a deep breath before loudly exhaling. “It’s just my first tattoo is all. I’m not quite used to the sensation of being stabbed multiple times.”

Phil’s mouth curled into a smirk as he continued. “I figured. You don’t look a lot like my usual clients.” He paused a moment, evaluating what he’d just said. “Not that that’s a bad thing! Like I like the way you look, it’s just… different is all. A good different.” He could almost feel the tinge of red creeping over his ears.

“Yeah I’m definitely not as punk as you are,” Dan teased. “I could tell the moment I laid eyes on your Poké Ball tattoo.”

“My Pokémon tattoos are very hard core thank you very much!” Phil feigned shock. He did indeed have a plethora of various Pokémon themed tattoos amongst other things. Dan found himself staring, picking out the adorable video game-related pieces in his sleeves that were mixed among beautiful aesthetic ones. So far he counted a Poké Ball, a triforce, a large Charizard, and even a Sonic the Hedgehog speeding along the span of his wrist.

“You know you’re not a scary as you might think,” said Dan suddenly. 

Phil only grinned. “Good. I wouldn’t want to scare someone so cute away.”

Dan left the parlor with two things, a brand new tattoo neatly wrapped in bandages, and a phone number.

x

“I’m not even kidding! I had just taken out my phone the get a picture and the squirrel just  _attacked_  me! He launched at me and started growling, it was horrifying!”

Dan was bent over at their small booth in the little coffee shop, holding his sides from laughing so hard over Phil’s antics. They’d agreed to meet up for coffee a few days after Dan got his tattoo so Phil could “check on the healing process,” amongst other things.

“I swear,” cackled Dan, wiping the tears from his eyes. “That could only happen to you, Phil.”

“Maybe so,” he agreed, taking a sip from his caramel macchiato. He set his drink aside and leaned in towards Dan, wrapping him up in those crystalline blue eyes that still managed to give him heart palpitations.

“So anyways, how’s that tattoo healing up?” he questioned. 

“It’s alright. A little tender but otherwise fine.” 

“Is it ok if I take a look?” 

Dan nodded shyly, rolling back his sleeve a bit and Phil took his hand in his own. Lean fingers turned his own delicate hands over while he looked at the newly inked skin. His grip was soft and gentle, and Dan tried to will his hand not to break out and start sweating under his touch.

“Looks like it’s healing quickly. It’ll probably look a little discolored and flake for a bit, but I promise it’ll look fantastic in a few weeks.” Phil pulled Dan’s sleeve back down but kept their hands clasped together, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles over Dan’s palm. 

They were quiet for a moment, content with each other’s company. Sunlight streamed through the window and reflected off the thick black glasses Phil was wearing today that made him look even cuter, if that were at all possible, and made the many metal piercings in his lips, nose, and across his eyebrow shine. Dan didn’t know anyone more beautiful. 

“In case you’re wondering, yes, I did do that just for an excuse to hold your hand,” Phil admitted, giving him a gentle squeeze. “I hope that’s okay.” His eyes looked hopeful and almost childlike with enamorment. 

Dan squeezed back and grabbed Phil’s other hand with his own, suddenly brave. “It’s perfect,” he smiled, locking their fingers together.

x

Dan was sprawled across Phil’s bed, watching while the older boy fiddled with his laptop and searched for a song to play. 

“Here,” he said, tapping the volume button. The room was filled with sharp guitar chords that Dan recognized immediately. 

“Supermassive Black Hole? Really?” He smirked, somewhat perplexed by Phil’s choice in song. 

“Why, expected me to only listen to screamo or something?” Phil teased. “You don’t exactly look like a huge Muse fan yourself, princess.”

“Shut up!” Dan laughed, grabbing Phil’s hand and yanking him onto the bed. 

“What? You’re too sweet and delicate for Muse. You’re one of those people who only ever listens to Lana Del Rey or Marina and the Diamonds.” As if to prove his point Phil pinched the lilac fabric of Dan’s button up between in his fingers and pointed to the flower patterned boots currently adorning his feet. 

Dan wiggled in closer, skimming his fingertips up and down Phil’s sides. “You’re a nerd,” he breathed, leaning in and pressing their lips together.

Phil only smiled against the kiss, dragging his lips lower and pecking down his jaw and across his neck. He sucked along the pale flesh in a way that he hoped left deep purple marks the next day.

“Damn you,” hissed Dan, burying his face in the crook of his neck. “Stop being so fucking hot all the time.” 

“Stop being such a cute boyfriend all the time and maybe we’ll talk,” retorted Phil, continuing to mark up Dan’s skin with his lips. 

Dan knew he was fucked. It had only taken him a few weeks with Phil to know he was absolutely, crazily in love with the tattooed boy.

x

When Phil got home from work, he found Dan lying facedown in the center of his living room.

“Dan, Dan!” his voice was filled with panic as he rushed over, dropping his bag and keys at the door. Roughly, he grabbed his shoulder and shook, eliciting a groan from the younger boy.

“Ughhhhh,” he whined, rolling on his back and opening his chocolate eyes. Other than the miserable expression on his face, he looked completely fine. Phil breathed a heavy sigh of relief, squatting down and drawing Dan into his arms, holding on tightly.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack,” he mumbled, pressing his face in his tousled brown hair. “What are you doing face down in my carpet? How did you even get in here?”

“Found your spare key and let myself in,” he grumbled. His words were muffled from pressing his face into Phil’s neck.

Phil sighed and pulled Dan’s head into his lap, rubbing his temple for a few quiet moments before asking, rather bluntly, “Is this you being worried about uni again?” 

One thing he’d learned after almost a year together with Dan was that he was prone to his worrisome, yet endearing existential moments. He could feel Dan’s head move up and down in his lap.

“Oh Dan,” he murmured, running his hand through the short brown hair, smoothing it over his forehead. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple. 

“I’m dropping out Phil,” said Dan abruptly. He hesitated a moment before he continued, “I just… I can’t do it anymore. I don’t give a fucking fuck about law! Everytime I think about anything related to uni, my brain short circuits and I wind up procrastinating. The exam is tomorrow, and I’m not going.”

Phil was silent a moment, letting it sink in before saying softly, “Dan, you know that all I want in the world is for you to be happy. I support you completely if this is what you think is best.” And with that, Dan began to sniff.

“Hey now don’t cry,” he soothed, wiping a few tears away. “This is a good thing! We should be celebrating! Besides-” he sat Dan up and grabbed both of his hands, looking into his puffy red eyes. God, even when he was crying Dan was the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he continued with a smile.

“Yeah?” said Dan, breaking out in a grin as he rubbed his puffy eyes.

“Well, this is kind of perfect timing and all but…” he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly bashful. “Without uni I guess you won’t really have a place to stay and all, so I was wondering-”

He paused, partially for dramatic effect and partially out of nervousness while Dan squirmed with excitement.

“Would you like to move i-”

“YES!” Dan screeched, hurling himself at Phil and sending them both tumbling into the matted carpet. He was crying again and kissing Phil and laughing all at once and it felt wonderful. 

“Next time you won’t have to break in to have an existential crisis,” Phil snickered, while Dan punched him in the arm.

x

The two of them fell into a simple routine. They’d wake up in the late morning, when they could no longer ignore the tendrils of sunlight streaming through the window. Often, Phil would coax Dan out of bed with a pot of coffee and the promise of a shared shower, which roused him out of bed quicker than he’d have thought possible. Phil would steal from Dan’s favorite cereal and they’d watch cartoons or anime until Phil had to get ready for his shift at the tattoo parlor, and Dan for his new internship with the BBC.

It became apparent to Dan, especially after his experience with uni, that too many people hated their line of work or what they were studying. Phil was not one of these people. He was so engrossed in his work, which was apparent through the hours he’d spend absorbed in his sketches, little creases forming in his brow from concentrating, or the way he’d talk so excitedly about the intricate patterns he’d tattooed that day. He emanated passion for his work, but he always came home to Dan right at 8 o’clock without fail.

But now it was almost 10:30 and Dan had no idea where Phil was. He’d tried calling his cellphone and sending dozens of texts but to no avail. As irritated as he was over Phil not picking up the phone, he was equally worried, if not more so. He could do nothing but wait impatiently, flicking on the tv and trying to absorb himself in whatever was on screen. 

_8:42 PM_

_hey where r u? Hurry up i made mac and cheese :D_

_9:17 PM_

_Well i ate the mac and cheese and it was amazing and u missed it! Seriously where r u?_

_9:32 PM_

_Phillllll_

_9:34 PM_

_Phil_

_9:34 PM_

_Philip Michael Lester pick up your damn phone_

_9:35 PM_

_Respond for free secks_

_9:45 PM_

_Fine no sex for you_

_10:03 PM_

_…_

_10:12 PM_

_Hello???_

_10:20 PM_

_Phil where the hell are you? Seriously call me back please_

Maybe he was overreacting, but Phil had always at least given him a call to tell him he was going to be home late. He was thoughtful like that.  _Or at least he was_ , thought Dan bitterly, rolling his eyes. His mind was racing as he mapped out all the places Phil could possibly be, angry with him and with himself for feeling so crazy and controlling.

Finally, at 11:05, Dan heard the deadbolts turning and the creak of a door swinging open. Immediately he jumped off the couch and stalked over to the door, crossing his arms.

“Hey,” Phil gave him a quick smile and flung his bag on the couch. “Sorry I’m so late, I had to stay after for a bit at work.”

“For  _three hours_?” Dan snapped, not even trying to hide how pissed he was. “You could’ve at least called me. I had no idea where you were!”

Phil seemed a bit taken aback by Dan’s outburst, his eyes wide as he responded, “I’m sorry Dan, honestly, I just got a bit preoccupied is all.” 

“What were you even doing for so long anyways?” he snapped. He didn’t know why he was overreacting like this, but then he was reminded of the painful twisting in his chest from earlier and he was fuming all over again.

“Nothing, just helping out because they were a bit short staffed…” Phil refused to meet his eyes and licked over his snakebites nervously, the way he did when he was hiding something.

“You were always a terrible liar, Phil.” Dan’s voice began to tremble and break just like it always did when he was angry and  _God_ , just once he wanted to stay calm and composed like Phil always was but he couldn’t. He was just a clingy and obsessive boyfriend crying over nothing and he felt like shit.

“Dan,” said Phil, crossing the space between them, placing his hands on his shoulder. Dan edged away from his embrace and Phil’s eyes flashed with hurt.

“Do you really want to know what I was doing?” He sighed, resignation in his voice.

Dan swiped under his burning eyes with his sleeve, feeling embarrassed and childish. “Yes,” he mumbled quietly.

Shrugging out of his coat, Phil turned around, his back facing Dan as he pulled off his shirt in one swift motion. Taped to his upper back was a sizable white square of gauze.

“You got another tattoo?” Dan asked, perplexed.

“Phil turned his head over his shoulder to look at Dan and smirked. “Well I wanted it to be a surprise until it healed, but I should’ve known you’d be too impatient. Peel off the tape and have a look.”

Blushing, Dan used his lean fingers to cautiously peel off the sticky tape. Phil grimaced and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Sorry,” Dan murmured, patting him awkwardly on the shoulder. Once he’d removed the plaster he slowly rolled back the gauze and gasped. 

Spanning across his shoulder blade was a meticulously needled branch of cherry blossoms, twisted into the shape of a heart. In the center of the intertwined branches was his name, Dan, written in black script. The skin looked raw and red, freshly inked, but the design was unmistakable. 

Dan felt his heart melt a bit as he breathed, “Oh, Phil,” and wrapped his arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have freaked out like that it was dumb and I’m dumb and you’re beautiful and sweet and thoughtfu-”

“Shhh,” Phil pressed a finger to his lips. “It’s okay Dan, really. I should’ve called you but I didn’t want to give it away.“ He chuckled a bit before adding, "You’re right anyways, I am a terrible liar.”

Dan giggled. “Only a little bit.” 

Leaning forward, he pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, wrapping his arms around him even tighter.

“See, now we match,” beamed Phil, grabbing his hand and pressing a soft kiss to the inside of his wrist where his bright cherry blossom tattoo had been inked in just a year earlier.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Bear. Now cover me back up before I start bleeding all over the carpet.”

x

When Phil woke up it was 3:15 in the afternoon. He didn’t remember dozing off in front of the TV screen. Sitting up, he yawned and rolled his shoulders and neck around, trying to shake out the stiffness of his muscles that never quite went away completely. Something was different, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. This was one of many impromptu naps he’d been taking over the last few months, and while he didn’t quite understand it, he figured there was nothing wrong with a little extra sleep.  _Especially when people like Dan were keeping him awake all night_ , he thought to himself, smiling at the memory of last night’s events. As innocent as Dan looked in his cute little pastel clothes and soft demeanor, he was far from it. 

He stretched a bit more before standing up to brew a pot of coffee, hoping it would keep his tired eyes open throughout the rest of the day. Flicking on the silver machine, Phil opened the cupboards in search of a mug, finally settling on a large ceramic one in the shape of Hello Kitty. 

He was walking across the kitchen floor when the mug slipped through his fingers, landing on the floor and shattering with a resounding crunch.

Dan heard a yelp from the other room and cracked open their bedroom door to investigate. 

"Phil?” He called, stepping cautiously into the kitchen. He was greeted with broken chunks of Hello Kitty littering the floor and Phil leaning against the wall, staring at his hands. 

“Drop a mug?” Dan asked, drawing Phil’s attention towards him and the mess on the floor.

Phil looked a bit dazed as he responded, “Yeah, I think I just murdered Hello Kitty.”

Dan shook his head a bit and chalked it up to a “Classic Phil” moment, before retrieving the broom and dustpan from the closet. 

x

Two days later while Dan was in the shower, he heard another crash from the kitchen. Unsure of what was happening, he shut off the faucet and dried himself off with his towel, wrapping it around his waist and heading towards the source of the sound. As soon as he stepped foot in the kitchen, he almost slipped in a white liquid coating the surface of the floor before catching himself on the counter, pulling up his towel that had already begun to slip off.

After he’d straightened up, he took stock of his surroundings. The floor was covered in milk and soggy cereal. Alarmed, Dan looked up and saw Phil sitting quietly in the corner in a puddle of cereal, clutching his hands close to his chest.

“Are you okay?” He asked, carefully crossing the wet floor and making his way towards the older boy. He squatted down and cupped Phil’s face in his hands. 

“Hey, look at me,” he said, tearing Phil’s eyes away from his hands and the mess on the floor. “What happened?”

Phil’s eyes were wide and fearful. “They won’t stop shaking Dan,” He said in a choked whisper. He lifted up his bloody, quivering palms towards Dan, which had small shards of glass imbedded in them. 

“I can’t get the glass out. They won’t stop. I don’t know what’s happening.”

It was then that Dan knew something was very, very wrong.

“It’s okay it’s okay,” Dan assured, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. His own hands were trembling as he pinched out the small shards.

When he was done he clasped Phil’s hands in his, holding them still until the tremor stopped on its own.

Pulling Phil to his feet, he wrapped his arm around him and led him towards the shower. 

“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up and we’ll worry about the mess when we get out.”

Phil stood in a daze while Dan leaned over the tub, adjusting the faucets until the water came out in a warm stream overhead. Discarding his towel on the floor, he climbed back in the shower to finish scrubbing his hair while Phil tugged off his clothes and joined him. 

He winced when he put his hands under the tap, letting the warm water wash away the red smudges of blood that had congealed over his cuts. Dan rubbed his shoulders and kissed the back of his neck for a few moments, before saying, “Phil, maybe we should take you to see a doctor.”

Phil said nothing, the only sound the downpour of water coming from the spout. Dan grabbed the soap bar and began lathering Phil’s back for him, eyeing his favorite cherry blossom tattoo that had now fully healed over his shoulder blade. 

“Phil?” He said, continuing to run soft circles over his back muscles, pulled taut from strain and stress. “I want you to see a doctor. At least for the sake of our dishes, okay?” Maybe he was overreacting, but something was nagging at the back of his head that this was what they needed to do.

“Okay,” said Phil quietly, releasing a heavy sigh. “If that’s what you think is best.”

“I think so,” he whispered, tracing his soapy fingers over the tattoos on Phil’s arms and back. 

They stayed there until the pipes pumped nothing but cold water and they reluctantly climbed out, wrapping themselves in fluffy white towels. After a few minutes of searching in the cupboard, Dan found three Hello Kitty bandaids that he used to cover the small cuts in Phil’s hands. It would have been comical seeing Phil’s large, heavily inked hands covered in adorable Hello Kitty bandaids, but given the circumstances Dan didn’t say anything. Instead, he just linked their fingers together and towed him into the bedroom.

Wrapping Phil in the comforter, Dan sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his hair until his eyelids fluttered shut. He brushed the blue fringe out of his eyes, leaning down and placing a light kiss on Phil’s forehead. It was then that he got up to survey the damage in the kitchen. 

After throwing on whatever clothes he could find, Dan made his way to the kitchen to mop up the soggy cereal and the large puddle of milk seeping into the floor. He scavenged for the fragmented bowl pieces until he found them all and carefully discarded them into the rubbish bin.

After surveying his work, he searched through an old address book until he found the number for a clinical specialist and dialed.

x

It was almost a relief when the doctor finally entered the room, clipboard in hand and long white coat swinging as she greeted the two of them.

Almost.

Phil had been poked, prodded, and subjected to more questions than he ever had by various nurses, all scanning up and down for the source of what exactly was wrong with him. They’d been waiting for what might have been hours before the doctor had shown up. The grim expression on her face made Phil’s heart skip and he clenched Dan’s hand, not giving a damn what the doctor thought about them.

If the doctor noticed, she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she gave them both a tight lipped smile before saying, “I’m glad you have someone here for support, Mr. Lester.”

Her voice made Phil’s stomach clench and he thought he might vomit. Never mind the fact that he already hated hospitals as it was. Too sterile. Too cold. He was vaguely aware of the doctor droning about something before Dan’s fingers squeezed his own, bringing his attention back to earth.

“Mr. Lester?” The doctor repeated. His face must have looked as blank and empty as his head felt. 

“Yes?”

“There is no… good way of putting this. Through our tests we’ve eliminated a lot. Mainly brain tumors, strokes, and the like, but we’ve been forced to narrow it down to one main possibility.

That was when the doctor, trying her hardest to deliver the news as gently as possible, diagnosed him with Parkinson’s disease.

What happened next was a blur of papers, chatter of follow up appointments, and medical jargon that poor Dan tried to comprehend, while Phil’s mind went elsewhere. He vaguely recollected asking what this meant for his job at the tattoo parlor, as over the course of the week he’d had to cancel his appointments when the tremors struck and he couldn’t trust his own hands.

The doctor hesitated before she responded, mulling it over. “For now, I would say you could continue to go to work. Just take everything one day at a time. We’ll be having more follow up appointments to see exactly how we should proceed.”

x

Taking things one day at a time, however, is a lot more difficult when chronic illness turns your life upside down. 

In the several months following his diagnosis, the time it took to tattoo someone took longer and longer, and Phil couldn’t consciously charge people as much per hour as he used to when he was faster. Just when he started making good money, making a name for himself, everything had to get fucked up. God, his hands, once so sturdy and dependable, had become traitorous bastards, with tremors striking at the most inopportune times, turning all his drawings to shit and making himself distrustful of every line he drew. Tattooing, once relaxing and enjoyable, induced anxiety the moment he thought about everything that could go wrong. He’d kept his shit together at work so far, but the pieces he worked on became smaller and smaller because he was so afraid of messing up.

Seeing Phil like this hurt. It hurt watching him concentrate so hard on his drawings, only to crumple them up in frustration and throw them in the trash. It hurt when he refused Dan’s help in cleaning up a broken dish, trying to prove to himself in some twisted way that he could do things for himself. It hurt when he didn’t believe Dan when he told him he wasn’t a burden, and he loved him more than anything.

He hounded the doctors about clinical drug trials. He swapped the glass in the cabinet for functional plastic dishes, much to Phil’s chagrin. He was relentless in telling Phil everyday how beautiful he was, how special he was, and how much he loved him. He refused to let Phil feel worthless or broken, because he was Phil, and he was so much more than a diagnosis.

But some days were worse than others. 

“I’m fucked Dan, okay? I’m completely fucked up!” Phil hardly ever swore, and his words were like a knife twisting in Dan’s heart.

He thrust out his hands, gesturing to himself in disgust, “This isn’t my body anymore. This isn’t me.” His voice cracked and broke around the edges and he started to sob, burying his face in his quivering hands. “I can’t do anything right anymore. I’m sorry Dan, I’m sorry, you deserve better.”

Dan could feel the tears burn in his own eyes as he crossed the room and pulled Phil into a tight embrace, sinking to the floor while they both cried.

“Don’t ever say that,” he sobbed, squeezing Phil tighter in his arms. For once, Phil felt like the small, fragile one, his body shaking in Dan’s arms. 

“I love you, I love you more than anything,” he whispered tearfully. He stroked his fingers through his hair and held on, clutching him like a lifeline. 

Dan didn’t know how to be the strong one, but Phil needed him, and Dan would be damned if he was going to let him shoulder this alone.

x

“Phil?”

“Mmm, yeah Dan?”

They were camped out on the living room couch watching a movie. Dan was holding a bowl of popcorn in his lap, which he would occasionally flick at Phil and scatter all over the couch. He was so cute sitting there, with his large black glasses, his dumb Gengar shirt, and his nerdy tattooed arms wrapped around him that still made Dan’s heart flutter.

“I was just thinking…” he paused a moment, licking his lips. “I wanted to ask you to do something for me, and for you, I guess, I don’t know.” He began to ramble like he did when he was nervous.

Phil leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade, “Anything. What is it?”

“I want you to tattoo me,” he blurted out.

Dan could feel Phil’s body grow rigid and the grip on his torso tightened slightly.

“Dan,” he began with a slight wince, adjusting his grip so Dan could turn to look him in the eyes. “If you want another tattoo you can always get one of my buddies from work to do it for you.”

“But I want  _you_ ,” Dan interjected pointedly. “You’re still taking clients at work, and I want you to do one for me too.”

“But it’s different,” he sighed a bit and looked down, refusing to meet his eyes. “I don’t want to ruin you. I don’t want to mess up because I don’t trust myself with you.”

“ _I_  trust you,” said Dan, picking up his hand and intertwining their fingers. “I trust you more than anyone else in the world, and I want it to be you.”

He was looking at him with those enormous brown eyes and a pleading look on his face and  _goddammit_  he was too cute in that dumb pink flower crown and Phil found himself agreeing.

“Okay…” he said hesitantly, cut off by Dan’s squeal of excitement. He tried to shake the sick feeling in his stomach and wondered if he’d just made a huge mistake.

“What is it exactly you want me to tattoo?” he asked a bit uneasily.

Dan just gave him a cheeky smile and a light peck on the lips, “That’s for me to know, and you to find out.”

x

Phil stood in the tattoo parlor, needle in hand, looking at a very ecstatic Dan seated in his chair. His stomach churned and he tried to slow the quivering in his hand, which at least, was only from nerves. Or so he prayed.

When Dan presented him the visual for the tattoo Phil’s heart melted a bit. He tried and failed not to tear up when Dan had held his hand, saying, “Phil, I love you. I want to be with you and support you for the rest of my life, and this tattoo will always remind me of that.”

And so there they were, alone in the tattoo parlor his manager had agreed to let him use after hours, waiting for Dan to get inked. He had slipped off his shirt already and was leaning over the chair, his upper back shiny from where Phil had swabbed him with alcohol. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” asked Phil, nervously tapping his tattoo gun. 

Dan smiled at the all too familiar words. “If I had backed out the first time someone asked me that before a tattoo, then where would I be today?” he smirked.

With a deep breath, Phil clicked on the gun and leaned in close. He steadied his hand carefully, willing it to stay still before he finally plunged the needle into Dan’s pale skin.

x

The tattoo had taken much longer than it should have because of Phil being overly cautious with Dan, stopping at the first sight of tremors and giving him frequent breaks to recover from the pain. When he was done though, he looked at his finished product and felt a surge of pride that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

The design wasn’t too fancy or large. In fact, it was rather simple, but that didn’t change the fact that it made Phil smile whenever he looked at it. It was a delicate red tulip with a splash of white along the edges. The stem was curved into a circular shape at the base, connecting at the top to form a base for the fragile flower.

“I never knew the symbol for Parkinson’s awareness would also match my aesthetic,” Dan remarked, looking at the raw tattoo freshly inked on his back in a mirror. “It’s beautiful, Phil,” he said softly.

“I know this is a part of you now,” he said, picking up his hand tenderly, “but it’s not something you have to shoulder alone. If you didn’t believe it already-” he gestured to the now permanent marks on his back, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t know what to say Dan,” he said shakily, dabbing his watery eyes.

“You don’t have to say anything you nerd,” Dan smiled. He worked his fingers in his hair and kissed him, holding on until they both had to resurface for air. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too, now let’s go home so I can thank you for the tattoo properly.”

Maybe he wouldn’t always see his art the way he used to and that hurt, it would always hurt. But he did have Dan, he would always have Dan, and he was more than okay with that.

**Author's Note:**

> We're coming to an end of my AO3 uploads! I've almost updated everything. Check out my tumblr at danhowells-movingcastle if you haven't already (^_^)


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